My grandfather worked at a racehorse husbandry in Virginia. My grandfather wasn’t a vet, he was just one of the niggers. He shoveled shit and kept the horses fed and groomed. During the summer school break my dad would go to work with his dad and he would tell me about how backbreaking their daily work was. Some of the horses at the farm were champion studs and that’s when the animal would receive extra special attention from the veterinarians and the trainers. My dad thought that the trainers were his dad’s bosses because they paid him cash every week. When he got older he realized that the horse trainers were just paid servants of the real boss who may never have laid his eyes on my grandfather.

That disconnection is part of the culture that owns and breeds racehorses. I try not to begrudge them too much since there aren’t too many pleasures left in America for ‘whites only’. Horse racing was still a bastion for privileged gentility. That was until I went to see SMARTY JONES at the Belmont Stakes.

I am no fan of horse racing, but since I am Black I can get into the peacock pageantry of The Kentucky Derby. Hollywood’s #1 lawn jockey, the little homey SPIKE LEE made an appearance at this years’ Derby with all the proper accoutrements. 1) Fly azz riding cap, and 2) fly azz redbone weedcarrier wife.

How good is it to be SPIKE right now? Plenty good. His latest release will surely garner some Academy nominations. He is back into the busom of the big bucks in Burbank.

His street cred remains high with those of us that love the Hip-Hop and can think outside of the box. Although he hasn’t spoken to us directly cinematically he has challenged our notions and ideas using traditional media outlets. When he openly criticized the pimp culture in rap music he was drowned out by the Oscar trophy being issued to 3-6 Mafia.

I say we raise a glass to toast my man SPIKE LEE. Ever since the days of MARS BLACKMON the lil’ homey has kept it real.

BLU CHEEZ is starting another photo album featuring jigs and others in their finest vines. He calls this album ‘Up In The Club‘. It features everybody doing their ghetto fabulous thing at the club. If you like H.A.M., then ‘Up In The Club’ will be your Cuban sammich.
BLU CHEEZ wants to thank AMANDA, JOJO McQUEEN and MECCA WALLACE for their contributions to this album.

If you have some pics that you want BLU CHEEZ to post in one of his photo albums, e-mail them to him at blu_cheez@dallaspenn.com

Superstar music video director LIL’ X is one of the biggest reasons that the Black female boonkey is one of the hottest items this summer season. X has steadily climbed up the ranks as one of music television’s most sought after autuers. He studied under the master, HYPE WILLIAMS, who is like the SCORSESE of the crap music video scene.

X deserves credit for making brownskin Black women equally objectifiable with their lighter skinned counterparts. To give these darker complexion women the amount of camera time that X has devoted to them I believe is worthy of some sort of NAACP Image Award. So will you stand with me, people of all different melanin dispositions and give this man some respect?

Plus, when he gives me a soul brother handshake at his birthday party it’s as if I was given the key that night for some exclusive video ho poon.

This wild business comes to us from the country’s crotch, Kansas City. With a dearth of community art facilities in that region the locals have to create their own arts programs. A good program is one that is self-sustaining and not self-destructive. To that end these two freaky filmographers have failed with their arts program. Production for their re-creation of the immortally dysfunctional couple Punch and Judy has been suspended indefinetly.

RICHARD DAVIS and DENA RILEY had a dream. They sensed that the community was without a quality menage-a-trois/snuff film and they actively sought to fill that void. They even recruited an actress that was willing to co-star in their production. Well, I am not so sure that the third party wanted to actually be killed, but there are all kinds of mistakes that go down in the throes of passion. I can remember one time I was having sex and my girlfriend told me to smack her. She didn’t say where so I gave her an open hand across her face. Intercourse stopped at that point which I can tell you was frustrating since I had the monster hard on after pimp smacking my lady. My point is this, communication, ne safe words are key for a relationship.